I say, without characters, fame lives long.

O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.

Children wish fathers looked but with their eyes; fathers that children with their judgment looked; and either may be wrong.

When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, Nor that full star that ushers in the even, Doth half that glory to the sober west, As those two mourning eyes become thy face: O! let it then as well beseem thy heart To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace, And suit thy pity like in every part. Then will I swear beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack

Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat.

If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening.